The spell Miss Victoire cast was warm and Reg couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose as it curled around his foot; it didn’t hurt, not at all, but the sensation was an odd feeling. He wondered if his foot was wrinkly, but that wasn’t something he was going to check at a ball of all places, especially in front of the woman his brother was courting. (His goal was to not be the weirdest sibling of the bunch, although sometimes it just happened.) At least it went away quickly, and Reg nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah. It’s great.” A small laugh bubbled out of his throat as he curled his toes in his now dry shoe. “That is much better. And I can’t say I’ve ever used the spell for something like this either.” It wasn’t like Reg played in the rain and he didn’t go jumping into lakes or rivers for fun while fully clothed. “I think my most used spell is enchanting my quill so it writes notes for me.” He had no reason to believe that Miss Victoire was daft enough to not pick up on the fact that he was a reporter of some kind, and well, it wasn’t a secret about how much he sometimes (unintentionally) stuck his nose in someone else’s business.

Reginald cleared his throat. “Can I uh… entice you into a dance? Unless you think it’ll be weird, which is definitely fine if we just stay right here.” Was it weird? He wasn’t sure about the customs. “Unless you need to be somewhere else, which is also uh… definitely fine too.” Speaking faster as the words tumbled out, Reg sucked in a sharp breath. Foot meet mouth. Maybe he was the weirdest sibling of the bunch.

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